


no two hearts were ever half what ours was whole

by hedasgonnahate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedasgonnahate/pseuds/hedasgonnahate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I posted two short drabbles on my Tumblr based on the prompt "Clexa High School AU: bad girl!Lexa and good girl!Clarke."</p>
<p>It has turned into this series of snapshots of moments during their Junior Year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no two hearts were ever half what ours was whole

Clarke is walking from AP Lit to AP Bio when a hand grabs her wrist and tugs her into an empty classroom. It’s happened enough times that you’d think it would no longer startle her, but she throws her free hand to her chest to soothe her pounding heart.

“Jesus, Lex. You scared me.”

Lexa sits on top a desk, grinning wickedly, but her mouth quickly drops into a pout and that’s how Clarke knows she’s about to try to sell an idea to her.  

“Wanna skip your last class and hang out with me instead?”

Clarke shakes her head, trying not to fall for that one again. Her record is nearly perfect. “This is your free period, not mine.”

“Every period is a free period if you just don’t go.”

“Great phrase. I’m sure my guidance counselor would love that one.”

Lexa scoffs, tugging on her patent leather jacket.

“How are we friends? I’m so awesome and you’re so lame.”

“Um, you cried during Big Hero 6 and you sleep with a stuffed dog named–”

Lexa rushes over and covers Clarke’s mouth to stop her from continuing.

“You were sworn to secrecy.”

Clarke narrows her eyes and that’s all she has to do. Lexa throws her hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Go to class, Miss Valedictorian. Want to hang out afterward or do you have to feed the homeless?” Clarke punches in the arm.

“Meet me at the flagpole. Do your homework now while you have free time.”

“Or I could just not do it at all, as per usual.”

Clarke is already walking out the door, but throws a look of warning over her shoulder.

“Message received,” Lexa whispers to herself, smiling slightly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They’re in the school parking lot, lounging on the hood of Lexa’s beat up silver Mustang. Clarke has a Debate Team meeting at 6 PM and Lexa claims to only be at school because she’s her ride home, but Clarke knows that she has nowhere better to be. Lexa’s latest foster parents are nice enough, but their apartment is small and she has to share a room with two other kids she doesn’t even know.

“Why do you always keep a cigarette on you when you don’t even smoke?” Clarke asks, reaching out to poke at the cigarette tucked behind Lexa’s ear. Her hand is batted away as Lexa scowls.

“It’s part of my aesthetic, Clarke.”

“And which aesthetic would that be? ‘Fake Bad Ass’ ?”

Lexa pushes her hard enough that she almost slides off right onto the pavement and Clarke’s stomach lurches in panic, but then a steady hand grabs her and pulls her right back up. Lexa’s thumb runs along the racing pulse point of her wrist until it slows back to normal.

“A _real_ bad ass would’ve let me fall.”

“Shut up.”

Her tone is harsh, but she’s wearing that little half-smile Clarke loves.

“Sleep over my house tonight.”

“Your mom hates me,” Lexa says, shaking her head.

“That’s only because she thinks you’re somehow impeding my pursuits of getting into a good college.”

“Bullshit. I helped you study for, like, four hours yesterday.”

She realizes her mistake only when she looks up and sees the fond look on Clarke’s face.

“I wonder what people would think,” the blonde whispers conspiratorially,  “if they knew the school’s resident bad girl is totally whipped by its resident good girl.”

Lexa flips her off and at the suggestive wink Clarke throws her way, considers that maybe she’s not such a good girl after all.

 

* * *

 

Clarke runs her fingertips along Lexa’s bruising knuckles, not at all deterred when she tries to pull away, just fixing her with a stern gaze until Lexa lets her continue her inspection.

“What were you thinking punching a guy three times your size? You’re lucky he didn’t hit you back.”

Lexa scoffs.

“Misogynists need to be punched, Clarke. It’s a fact of life.”

“But what did he say?”

  
She had heard whispers in the hallway of the incident, but no one really knew what caused Lexa’s outburst. She knew she’d be hiding and she knew where. Clarke found her right here in the corner of the girl’s bathroom, wincing and cradling her hand.  

Lexa shakes her head, moving to lean against one of the sinks.

“It’s nothing to worry yourself over.”

“You’re already on academic probation. They could’ve kicked you out for this. What did he say that was so bad?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“He said something about ...what he’d like to do...to you… or more specifically, your breasts.”

Clarke barks out a surprised laugh, quickly covering her mouth when Lexa’s brows furrow.

“Did he say ‘breasts?’” Clarke inquires, just messing with the brunette now.

Lexa squirms under her gaze.

“He said tits.”

Clarke throws her head back and laughs heartily in amusement.

“You’re a great friend, Lex, but you don’t have to defend my honor.”  

Lexa turns away to look in into the mirror and check her eyeliner.

“Yep...a great friend.”

Clarke doesn’t hear her.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a Friday evening, late enough to already be dark out, but Lexa’s still in the parking lot when Clarke finally walks out of the school. She allows herself a secret, affectionate smile seeing that Lexa is passed out on the hood of her car, leather jacket a makeshift pillow pressed against the front window, her long body not quite fitting, so her clunky combat boots hang down against the front bumper. Upon her approach, Clarke notes how peaceful she looks like this, mouth parted slightly.

It’s what makes her hesitate a moment before tapping her knee. Lexa jerks awake, raising her fists in defense, but it’s only Clarke standing above her, hair lit up like gold by the flickering light of the lamppost nearby.

“Hey,” she croaks tiredly, dropping her hands.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

She gracefully slides off the hood and stands, stretching out her muscles.

“Ready, Miss Valedictorian?”

Lexa makes a show of obnoxiously smacking the cinnamon gum she always seems to be chewing just because she knows Clarke hates the sound.

The blonde rolls her eyes, but does that smile where her tongue pokes out between her pretty teeth. It’s the one she saves for Lexa.

“Let’s go see a movie,” Clarke suggests once they are seated in the car and the tired engine thrums.

“Okay, but nothing rated lower than PG-13. It’s bad for my rep.”

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke finds out Lexa likes girls at a party. She doesn’t really do parties and she certainly doesn’t drink, but Raven insists that she try a night of unadulterated fun. She really just tags along to shut her up. No more than five minutes after Clarke walks through the front door of some stranger’s house, she sees them on a couch, lips devouring and hands wandering. Lexa. _Her_ Lexa. An unknown, beautiful girl and _her_ Lexa.

 

Clarke finds out _Clarke_ likes girls at a party.

She goes into the bathroom and throws up, despite not having had even a drop of alcohol. Raven thinks she’s just a lightweight.

 

Lexa approaches her at school that following Monday, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“Did you think I would care?” Clarke asks her to fill the silence.

“I don’t know,” Lexa mumbles noncommittally.

Clarke huffs and turns to leave, but Lexa grabs her wrist and spins her back around.

“We’re already so different, Clarke. You’re wealthy, you’re the top ranked student in our class, you’ve never broken a rule in your life, and you’ve got a family.”  Clarke looks down at her feet just as Lexa holds up her fourth finger to conclude the list. “I didn’t want to give you another potential reason to not be my friend.”

They stand there in the hallway staring into each other’s glossy eyes until the bell rings and students start flooding out of classrooms.

“You idiot,” Clarke says finally.

Lexa winces, but then arms are snaking around her neck and Clarke’s face is suddenly pressed against her shoulder.

“ _I’m_ your family.” It comes out muffled and there is noise all around them, but there’s no mistaking what she says.

Lexa wraps her arms around Clarke’s waist to pull her closer.

Both are too busy worrying about their own frantic heart to notice the other’s.

 

* * *

 

 

They’re sitting on the back porch of  Clarke’s house, enjoying a sunny afternoon.  

Lexa looks down to check her watch and the motion makes her sunglasses slip down right off her nose and cover her mouth.

She has never looked less cool, shades awkwardly pressed against her full lips.

Clarke’s chest seizes.

She reaches out to push the glasses back up, earning a half-smile.

“You haven’t told me much about your foster parents yet.”

It’s a sensitive subject she rarely dares breach. Lexa noticeably bristles and her smile drops..

“They’re fine. Nice enough to make sure I didn’t have to switch schools again.”

Clarke nods, equally grateful for that.

“I’m sure it’s not long now before they decide to send me off to another family. They’ll probably haul me to the opposite side of the country.”

“Don’t say that,” the blonde insists, ever the optimist, and Lexa breathes out a sigh.

“Thank God I’ll be eighteen soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa is sitting against her locker, listening to music when Clarke walks up to her, face strained.

She drops a test on Lexa’s lap... the test with an ‘F’ written in bold red pen.

“Did you take this out of my bag?” Lexa asks, pulling out her earbuds. She already knows the answer. Clarke slumps down next to her.

“You told me you were going to start trying. I know you’re smarter than this. _You_ know you’re smarter than this. How do you expect to get into college if you---”

“I’m _not_ going to college, Clarke” she finally interrupts.

It comes out harsher than Lexa intends, so the next part is purposefully much softer.

“There’s no way I’m getting into whatever Ivy League school you end up choosing.”

Clarke recoils.

“Why are you planning your future around mine? You should be making the best decisions for _you._ ”

Lexa exhales heavily as if pained and stuffs the test into her backpack. She looks over to the blonde and murmurs, as if pleading, “You must know by now, Clarke.”

“Know what?”

She stands before she answering because when it comes to fight-or-flight, Lexa is a master of both.

“Know that I’ll follow you anywhere you go.”

She hears Clarke suck in a surprised breath, but makes sure she is gone before she can form a response.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke has never been to Lexa’s apartment building before because she isn't exactly eager to share that part of her life, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Lexa has managed to avoid her for two weeks, so showing up at the once place she counts on Clarke not being seems like solid idea.

It's midnight, though and as she stares up at the five story building, Clarke realizes her plan wasn't that well thought out. She's not about to throw rocks at random windows in the hopes that one is Lexa's, especially knowing Lexa shares a room anyway. 

So, instead, she sends her a text that reads: **_I'm outside. Come out now or I'll tell the whole school you sleep with a stuffed dog named Mr. Charlie._**

It's an empty threat, but less than a minute later, the front door creak opens just a sliver.

Lexa peaks her head out first to investigate. When she sees the blonde, she pushes it open fully, bare feet slapping the cement as she moves to meet her on the sidewalk.

Lexa's in nothing but a baggy tee shirt and leggings. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun.

Somehow, Clarke knows she wasn't sleeping. 

"Did you need something, Clarke?" Her voice is quiet and strained. She anxiously chews her bottom lip while waiting for an answer.

Clarke takes a deep breath to try to steel her nerves. 

"You're not _following_ me _anywhere_." 

Lexa's eyes dart away, unknowingly biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood and Clarke immediately regrets her wording.

She moves until they're just a breath apart, reaching up to cup Lexa's cheeks with shaking hands.

"We'll go wherever we go _together_." 

Lexa's comically wide eyes are the last thing Clarke sees before she closes her own eyes and then the gap. 

Their kiss tastes like copper and then cinnamon gum. 

 


End file.
